My Own Demons
by Isolde Moonstone
Summary: After N.E.W.T.s, Harry Potter hopes to leave Hogwarts with a light heart and easy stride with the person he loves. It just doesn't happen the way he wants; because nothing is ever that simple. (Ignores epilogue completely. This is my first fic here, please read and review!) So I won't be able to regularly update for a while, laptop broke and I'll be going out of the country.
1. Prologue

**My Own Demons**

**Warnings: AU, Slash, Slightly Dark Harry, OOC, Break-up of the main pairing, no beta.**

**Rating: Idk, T mostly? It might turn into M in later chapters.**

**Disclaimer: All the known characters belong to J.K. Rowling. **

**Author's Note: I have no idea what I'm doing. This was just an exercise for me to get over my writer's block; with a 'break-up' as prompt. It evolved into a bunny, then a monster of a story in my head, which I hope to complete without going into too many chapters. Anyway, leave a review if you like it and want to see where this story goes. I need the encouragement, like, really badly. **

**Prologue**

The common room reserved for the Eighth Year students was devoid of any students, save for one Harry Potter. His bags were packed and shrunk. Outside it was lightly snowing with the year's first snow; a seemingly wonderful end to a dark lord-free final term at Hogwarts. Harry was waiting pensively for his most precious companion; they had promised to leave Hogwarts together after the term ended; a fortnight after they completed their N.E.W.T.s.

He had said his farewells to Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom and almost all the students who came back for Eighth year after the war to sit for their N.E.W.T.s; with the exception of Ron and Hermione. The hallways and stairs that led to the common room for the Eighth Years were silent except for the footsteps of one Slytherin blonde.

With a whoosh, the door of the common room opened to reveal Draco Malfoy. Harry looked up and held his breath as he took in the image of his boyfriend of six months. The faint rays of scattered sunlight that escaped through the frosted windows hit Draco, creating a sight so beautiful that Harry was struck dumb for a moment. He then got up and ran to Draco, in his haste failing to read and understand the ill-concealed odium beneath Draco's icy veneer.

"Potter, it's over. We're done." Draco Malfoy said coldly, pushing Harry away from his person. Only moments ago Harry was smiling and running up to snog Draco. The shock was mirrored in Harry's emerald green eyes as soon as Draco spoke those words. Disbelief and hurt came in succession.

"What the bloody hell are you saying, Draco?" Harry's voice quivered; confused and bewildered.

"Come on, Potter. Even you can't be that dense. I got with you because you were so easy to fool. I had suspected you were a shirt-lifter from your perpetual spying on me; hence I seduced you so you would work to keep my family out of Azkaban. Imagine my surprise when it actually worked. " Draco said with his oft used sneer, something Harry had not seen after their Sixth Year at Hogwarts; that awful year when he'd slashed Draco open with the Sectum Sempra curse. To see that hateful expression again was like having tiny needles prick into his chest.

"You're saying that you shagged me for the sake of my getting you and your family out of Azkaban? That's low even for you!" Harry shouted, unable to contain the hurt that pulsed through him.

"Potter, by now you should have recognized that Malfoys would do anything to come out on top. I have no further use of you now, so I'm ending this farce right here." Draco's words had just the right amount of pity and disgust.

"No, you're lying! Draco, you said you cared for me. I-I love you." Harry tried to pull at Draco's arm, gripping with both hands. He was desperate for Draco's words to be a joke; or that this was just a nightmare he would wake up from.

Despite the horror Harry felt, the gentle snow kept falling outside, lightly coating the grounds surrounding the school. It was all wrong.

In his head, Harry could hear the words Ron Weasley spat when he outright shouted to Harry that he was a fool to think an ex-Death Eater honestly wanted Harry for himself; the day he decided to come out to his friends and tell them that he was in a relationship with Draco Malfoy. Tears began to blur Harry's vision as he struggled to align the reality of what was happening and his own refusal to accept that the fantasies he had of being with Draco together forever in the future slowly shattered.

"Stop it, Potter! You disgust me. Touching you made my skin crawl. All those times I had you for a shag I had to fucking imagine I was shagging someone else just to make the act bearable!" Draco wrenched his arm; pried Harry's fingers off and roughly shoved Harry away. The dark haired boy stumbled back, losing his balance and fell on his rear.

"Draco, tell me you didn't mean that. You're lying!" Harry pleaded; his voice hoarse, tears pooling in his eyes as he looked up at Draco. He could barely speak through the pain in his chest. He never pleaded; not when he was tortured under the Cruciatus curse, not when Dolores Umbridge made him write with his own blood, not when he faced Voldemort and looked death in the eye when the Killing Curse had been cast on him, and not when Ginny broke it off with him. The fact that he was pleading now showed just how much Harry was in love with Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin's visage however, was granite, unyielding as he stared down at Harry with a look that can only be described as loathing.

"Draco, you didn't mean that, right? All those times we were together, they were real and wonderful. This is a joke, right? Someone's got you under Imperius? Did your parents put you up to this? Draco, if they did we can find a way to change their minds, we can come up with something, surely?" Harry felt the tears start to fall down his cheeks. They burn with the memories of all the people he had lost; his parents, Sirius, Remus, Dobby, Dumbledore; and now Draco too. Harry scarcely grasped what he was doing but a moment later he realized that he was sobbing and clasping Draco's legs to his chest while he was on his knees, begging Draco not to do this. He was begging Draco Malfoy not to leave him.

"Merlin, you're disgusting Potter. Stop being in denial. I am not under Imperius and no one put me up to this! You're far too needy for my taste; on top of that you were the worst shag I've ever had, hands down. Granted, you were a sodding virgin before I came along but I've had enough. All the galleons in the world couldn't make me stay with you. Now let go!" Draco kicked Harry away. When the young Gryffindor tried to chase after him, the Slytherin pulled out his wand and shot a particularly painful stunning hex on Harry. Harry fell down with a thud, his cries for Draco not to leave arrested in his throat.

"Goodbye, Potter." Draco said with a sneer, and proceeded to walk out of Harry Potter's life.

Hours after the effects of the stun wore off; Harry Potter was still lying on the floor, eyes open and alert but still and silent, tear tracks dry. That was how Blaise Zabini found Harry.

Outside, the falling snow had finally turned into a frightening blizzard, mirroring the raging emotions of one Harry Potter.


	2. Chapter 1: Seven Years Later

**Chapter 1: Seven years later**

* * *

Bill Weasley is a top notch curse-breaker among those who work for the Ministry of Magic, but even he had trouble with the nasty curse that had been sprung on his youngest brother, Auror Ronald Weasley and a team of other aurors in training. Hermione is beside herself with worry and was unable to do anything other than identify the curse.

The spell work is, for lack of a better word; ridiculous. The connecting leys in the curse are delicate and sinisterly riddled with traps. Much like a bomb; it was designed to detonate, splinching and creating frost bites on various parts of the victim, leaving the ones affected by the curse well and truly dead should a lesser curse-breaker try to unweave the spell.

Bill's earlier attempts with the help of experienced healers only managed to arrest the development of the curse to a slower pace. It was a malicious curse thrown by a dark wizard; another nutter trying to usurp the rule of You-Know-Who.

Knowing he was losing precious time, and needed someone who is an expert curse-breaker to help him with Ron's rapidly deteriorating condition; Bill had owled the only other Curse-breaker he knew to be more skilled than anyone else. It was his old mentor who currently lived in Hokkaido; Bartholomew Fernand.

He'd sent the owl two days ago, with a letter and an emergency portkey provided by the ministry for the old Curse-breaker to travel straight to Bill Weasley's courtyard. Bill paced back and forth with worry, thinking about Ron who was currently being kept in an induced coma at St. Mungo's so he wouldn't have to suffer the excruciating pain and volatile effects of the curse. The healers couldn't do anything other than try to delay the curse from completely taking over Ron's body. His mentor is his last hope; and Bill could only pray that his elderly mentor could make the trip.

No sooner than Bill had uttered his prayer, an eagle owl came barreling through his window and dropped a letter into his hands. Bill tore it open and read.

_Dear Bill, _

_It is with my regretful apologies I write this letter to inform you that I__'__m too ill to portkey in order to help you on the matter concerning young Weasley. _

_Fear not, someone else had volunteered to go in my place. He is highly skilled, talented in spell weaving and curse breaking. I trained him myself; yet his knowledge has far surpassed mine. He should be more than adequate at handling the situation and the Paenitentia Curse that had befallen young Ronald Weasley. _

_P.S. He should arrive any second now. _

_P.P.S. I believe you know him._

_Your friend and mentor,_

_Bartholomew Fernand_

Bill exhaled a relieved breath, unaware he was holding it in while he read the letter. If Bartholomew sang praises about this person, then Bill felt confident he could put his worries to rest and let himself hope. He was doubtful however; that he knew an expert more skilled than Bartholomew. The post script puzzled him just a little bit.

Bill apparated to his courtyard the moment his wards alerted him to the arrival of the person. He didn't know who to expect; only noting that the person who was straightening up his clothes from the whirl of the portkey travel had long dark hair that was stylishly kept, the length almost reaching his lower back. The newly arrived curse-breaker then turned to face Bill Weasley.

"Hello Bill. Long time." The dark haired stranger said. Bill gawked; speechless.

He looked very different from the last time Bill saw him; taller, much more muscular, and missing his round shaped spectacles. Still, there was no mistaking the dark hair and those intense emerald green eyes. This person is Harry Potter, the boy who lived; also the boy who shook the wizarding world at its core when he went missing without a word seven years ago.

"Harry Potter?" Bill gawped incredulously.

"Yes, Bill Weasley. As much as I would love to catch up, I believe we have a team of cursed aurors to save. Old Bart already briefed me on the details." Harry said drily. "I'll side apparate with you. Come on, get on with it, we don't have a moment to lose." The dark haired wizard placed an assertive hand on Bill's arm; a firm, confident grip.

Wordlessly complying, Bill began to apparate them away, deciding that all his questions for Harry Potter could wait till after the curse-breaker finished what he was here for.

* * *

Harry knew that coming back to Wizarding London would make him have to deal with a barrage of questions from everyone.

People he had left behind when he decided he couldn't face them and live in the tedium where his private life was fodder for the masses that is the wizarding world.

He was a young boy of seventeen who did what was expected of him as the savior, and had rid the world of Voldemort. He never asked for fame and glory but he got them, nevertheless. All he asked was a chance to live a relatively quiet life and finally be happy, but fate would never be so kind to Harry as to let him live simply. His friendship with Ron Weasley suffered when he revealed that he started going out with Draco Malfoy during the Eighth year; the year he returned to Hogwarts to complete his N.E.W.T. exams. Ron was adamant that Draco was a worthless Death Eater who didn't deserve a second chance; something Harry passionately disagreed with. They fought, and Ron's stubbornness in his refusal to acknowledge Draco as a person Harry cared about drove a wedge between them. Hermione was hopelessly stuck in the middle, but ultimately chose to side with Ron; making her disapproval of Draco clear to Harry. That resulted in Ron and Hermione leaving for Australia to retrieve Hermione's parents right after they finished sitting for their N.E.W.T.s; still having not spoken to Harry.

Harry's decision to disappear quietly and leave the country without word didn't help mend the rift between himself and his two closest friends. Years passed by; and Harry was stubborn and selfish enough to keep to the radio silence between himself and the other two thirds of the Golden Trio. In the past seven years, only his solicitor and Blaise Zabini knew of his exact whereabouts. Hermione had owled copious amounts of letters to Harry's solicitor; the first few months inquiring Harry's whereabouts, which then evolved into letters she hoped Harry's solicitor would forward to Harry over the years when no reply from Harry was forthcoming. Harry of course, knew of Hermione's effort to reach him through his ever faithful solicitor; Mr. Hilarion Bastille, but found himself unwilling to write back to her at all; except asking his solicitor to forward a wedding present to her when he received an invite to Ron &amp; Hermione's wedding. That was little more than two years ago, Harry instructed Mr. Bastille to send a decline to the wedding invite; although he found himself portkeying in to Wizarding Britain and apparating to the Burrow; observing the wedding and celebrations in silence underneath his cloak of invisibility. Before he left, he conjured a patronus to convey his felicitations to both Ron &amp; Hermione just before the two newlyweds went to the International Portkey office for their honeymoon. At the time he thought he never wanted to take up again the ties from his past; having made a decision to start his life anew when he first left on a journey to mend.

However, the wedding had made Harry realize how much he missed Britain and spurred him into making preparations to ready himself for a return to Wizarding Britain; and he would have, save for a small dose of uncertainty that delayed him from executing his plans for two years.

All that uncertainty became irrelevant yesterday when he received word that Ron Weasley was battling a curse for his life in St Mungo's spell damage ward. That was sufficient to make Harry pack his bags and Portkey in short notice. No matter how selfish he had grown in the past seven years, he couldn't let Ron Weasley die; not when Harry had just the skill set that might help save his old friend.

The smell of the spell damage ward assailed Harry's nose. Much like a muggle hospital, St Mungo's wards smell of disinfectants from the cleaning charms cast by the nurses. Harry quietly followed behind Bill Weasley as the older man led him to the room where they kept Ron in stasis.

Harry paused when they arrived; the room had walls made of glass. He could see Hermione beside Ron's cot looking exhausted and defeated. Bill had gone through the door and went to give Hermione a brotherly hug. Steeling himself, Harry entered into the spacious room behind Bill; completely aware of Hermione's shocked stare at seeing him there; after so many years. It took only a moment but she went straight into Harry's arms and embraced him.

"You're here, Harry. I thought you…. ." Hermione couldn't finish her sentence as tears streaked down her face and her body trembled with sobs in an overwhelming wash of emotions.

"I know. Me too." Harry replied softly. There were many things he knew he needed to say to bridge his seven year absence; but he would let his actions speak for itself for the moment. He held her and rubbed her back, wordlessly calming her down.

"Please relax Hermione, and ask the healers for revivication potions and blood replenishing potions; lots of them. Ron will need it." Harry said calmly. He needed to focus and had turned to Ron to examine the progress of the curse on the comatose body of the Weasley. When he was satisfied noting all the symptoms on Ron's body, Harry started examining the curse; once in a while throwing Bill some questions about the measures the elder Weasley had taken on the curse.

"Well? Harry, can you break this curse?" Bill asked, nervous despite his earlier confidence in Bartholomew's recommendation. Harry's lips quirked a bit and he threw Bill an amused glance.

"Not a problem. The reason you were having problems with this curse is because it is not a simple blood traitor's curse as you had suspected. Ron had somehow gotten hit or sprung with multiple curses before he got hit by the biggest one; most probably meant for someone else. One of these curses matches the Paenitentia Curse that you identified, while another is an altered variation of the Cruciatus Curse. I'll start working on loosening the knots between the curses, yeah?" Harry asserted with a no nonsense tone. Bill looked on, transfixed by Harry's quick spell work and wandless magic that seemed as natural to the savior as much as breathing. "_Lineae Revelare! Maledictum Remissas!"_

After almost half an hour of de-tangling the myriad of knots with the curses were enveloping Ron's magic, Harry called for Bill and the healers to help. He started explaining to them what they needed to do.

"Bill, you will need to cast a silencing charm in this room. Ron needs to wake up and let the curses progress to a certain point before I can yank them to remove them all. He will need you and Hermione to hold him down; keeping his magic from leaking through the curse lines as he rides through the worst of the pain; and the healers need to restrain him down physically as best as they can. I was hoping I didn't have to make him go through this; but at this point there is no other way."

Hermione, who had been watching quietly while Harry worked, looked up at Harry with understanding. Both Hermione and the eldest Weasley looked at Harry and agreed to do as he said.

"Let's do it." They intoned. Harry nodded to them and the healers once they were all in place around Ron. This was going to be rough on Ron. Harry poised his wand and set to reviving the ginger.

_"Ennervate!"_

* * *

Hours after dissolving the curse found Harry Potter and Bill Weasley at the Leaky Cauldron sipping Firewhisky. They sat at a dark table that was more secluded than the other stands there. Bill was still shaken from seeing the speed and complexity of the curse breaking and the tortured screams Ron had let loose when Harry set to work on vanquishing the curse, when at long last after what seemed like hours; Harry hissed in a garbled Parsel tongue and what sounded like Japanese spells. The curse marks left Ron's body and was transferred to a curious magical glove Harry was wearing on his left hand. Ron had immediately fainted after the exertion, with Hermione also following suit, finally relieved and depleted of energy. They had then set to work on the other aurors who, thankfully, weren't as worse off as Ron. Harry and Bill decided to let them all rest under the care of healers at St Mungo's while they grabbed food and drinks at the pub. They found themselves conversing randomly on the subject of nothing in particular.

"How are things at the Burrow now, Bill? All is well, I hope?"

"They're doing alright, I guess. Charlie's still in Romania and planning to propose to his boyfriend, last I heard. Mom and Dad are in good health; George's joke shop is running well, Percy helps out at the shop with George sometimes. Ginny made one of the Holyhead Harpies main Chasers and is enjoying a good season so far. Ron and Hermione were doing well working for the ministry; without any major incidents until Ron got hit by those blasted curses during a raid three days ago."

"And you, Bill? How have you been?" Harry questioned lightly; to which Bill visibly tensed up to.

"I'm doing alright; all things considered. Right now I'm legally separated from Fleur; and my kids are at the Burrow with Mum and Dad." Bill managed after an uncomfortable sigh.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Look, you don't have to elaborate. I just wanted to know how you were doing; I apologize if it made you uncomfortable to talk about your situation."

"You don't need to apologize, Harry. I neglected Fleur… And ultimately, I think it was my fault that she felt she wanted to… live differently. I was barely there for her and my kids." The Fire Whiskey had loosened his tongue and the words and half-truths seemed to roll down despite Bill's reluctance to speak about his marriage.

"I'm guessing that another man is involved in this story. I know you're lying; from the way you spoke I can tell that you're the one who pushed for the separation, not Fleur." Harry said quietly. Bill looked up sharply to Harry's face at that.

"How did you know-"

"I didn't really. You just confirmed it." The younger wizard said; an amused smirk tugging at his lips.

"Merlin, you're a bit of a Slytherin, Harry Potter. Who knew?" Bill muttered, a routed look crossing his face.

"Well; I shan't press for more about it, unless you want to get yourself pissed and let out all your grievances to me tonight. I'll play the agony witch." Harry said with a smile to lighten the mood. Bill felt his tension begin to melt away when he realized how good looking Harry was when he smiled. Trying to shake off his train of thought; he shook his head and laughed quietly.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that offer, if I get more than a little pissed tonight." Bill smiled, wondering a little bit at how easy it was for him to talk to Harry.

"Well, another round then?"

"Definitely. While you're at it, get me some snacks!" Harry left the table to order more Fire Whiskey.

Bill took the time to take in Harry Potter's looks properly now that he had a minute. The 25 year old Savior had longer legs than he remembered, looked more muscular and thoroughly fit compared to the time Bill had seen Harry last; at Fred's funeral. He found his gaze straying to Harry's arse; encased in dragon skin leather trousers that hugged his long legs and left almost nothing to Bill's imagination of how it would look; sans said trousers. He had no doubt that the rest of Potter's physique would be just as attractive. The eldest brother of the Weasley brood found it hard to peel his eyes away as Harry walked back to their table with the drinks and snacks.

"So Harry… Were you in Japan all this time? For seven years?" Bill finally asked after they had run out of small talk.

"For the most part, yeah, I was studying curse-breaking and the fundamentals of healing. I traveled a lot to other countries as well with my Japanese mates." The green eyed brunette answered acquiescently.

It was the lack of spectacles and the long stylish hair that was plaguing Bill with questions now.

"What happened to your spectacles, Harry? And what the bloody hell happened to your hair?"

"Took you long enough to ask that," Harry let out a snort at Bill's indignant tone. "I had my eyesight corrected by a complicated Japanese spell. As for my hair… it's a long story that involved a stint as a host and bartender, and a Japanese magical hair salon. Suffice to say that I quite like wearing my hair like this, and that it's behaved quite nicely compared to when it was shorter."

"It's gorgeous. I like it." Bill murmured. He didn't mention that he felt a certain pull towards Harry; one that had begun to feel sexual in nature. Bill had known he was bisexual since before he graduated from Hogwarts; but had kept it a secret from everyone but his brother Charlie. Bloody hell; with how rocky his marriage had been these last few months with Fleur, attempting to get Harry into bed seemed tempting, especially after seeing how sexily confident the young wizard was. It didn't help that Bill had kept himself celibate for the amount of time he had been at odds with his wife.

Harry smirked and stared contemplatively at Bill's face while Bill moved to touch the careful dark haired waterfall braids on Harry's head. A look passed between them and Bill knew that Harry knew of his attraction. All thoughts of why he shouldn't do this forgotten; Bill moved in to kiss Harry on the lips.

Harry was quicker to respond; he had one hand on Bill's chest. Gently he pushed Bill away before Bill could taste his lips. Harry cleared his throat; and Bill pulled his hand away from Harry's hair; contrite when Harry's flashing emerald eyes bore straight into his.

"Look, Bill. I'm going to be direct with you. I could feel your sexual interest from before we had that third round of Firewhisky. I am very flattered that you are interested in me; as I had no idea you swung that way. However, the timing is just terrible. Not to mention I still need to see Ron and mend some bridges there; so it wouldn't do for you to get into anything sexual with me." Harry said with a playful but stern note; arching his brow below the lightning scar.

"It's none of his business who I sleep with," Bill found himself snorting moodily; to which Harry made to leave a few galleons for his share of the glasses of firewhisky on the counter. He stood, gave Bill a small grin that could only be described as lustful and stepped away to leave.

"Ask me another time, Bill Weasley. I might not say no; as long as it's just sex. I'll see you around." And Harry was gone.

Bill opened his mouth and closed it; not finding any words to say. This was not the scrawny, self-doubting 'Boy Who Lived' that he knew in passing years ago. The young man that is Harry Potter now had a sexual pull that was almost hypnotic; one that he obviously knew about, and he perceptibly wielded it to wrap people around his finger when he saw fit. This new Harry Potter is dangerously enthralling. Bill didn't expect to be intrigued by Harry Potter; but he was.

* * *

**A/N: OK, so now I need help. The next chapter is pretty much already written, but please drop a line and review? Let me know whose POV you'd like to read in this story. Help a girl get out of her writer's block, pretty please? T~T Reviews is love. **


	3. Chapter 2: Letters to No One

**A/N: Hi all! This is a filler chapter which I wrote in a different way to coax stuff out from mah really bad block. Anyways, please review and let me know what you think!**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Letters to No One**

_Dear Draco,_

_Fuck you. You lying Slytherin bastard. I curse the day I fell for your charms._

_Your Fucking Humiliated Ex,_

_Harry_

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_After the war, everything fell apart and I was left with nothing. You were all I had. Now I don't even have you. The sad part is; I'm starting to realize that maybe I never did. It's hard to not believe it when my own mind is telling me that I have served my last purpose when I vanquished Voldemort._

_I hope you die a painful death Draco Malfoy._

_Harry_

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_Something's wrong with me. These dark thoughts kept plaguing me, growing malicious and gnawing on my bones. I know you don't care, but writing and pretending that these letters will find their way to you; even though you will never read any of it calms me down a notch, particularly when I'm suicidal._

_Ron and Hermione have been in Australia for three months and I still haven't heard a word from them. Not that I expected to. I had a huge row with them just before they left and haven't spoken with either since everything went to shite with Ginny and I told them I was in love with you. But you knew all that, didn't you? They told me you were not to be trusted and that you were only using me. I refused to believe them then. It turned out that they were right. You're a right prat. I hope you rot in hell you arsehole. When Ron and Hermione get back; they will look at me and say their 'I told you so'. They will look at me with pity and that is something my pride can no longer take._

_Fuck you Draco. And a horse should ride in._

_Harry_

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_It seems like I have made a new friend in Blaise Zabini. He seems put together and surprisingly loyal; something I never expected from a Slytherin. I've been staying at his condo since that last day in Hogwarts after our N.E.W.T. s .You know of what day I'm talking about. Blaise was the one who found me after you; for lack of a better word, discarded me. He has been a very good friend to me so far, and he had nothing to gain from it. I've checked. He does not have a twisted reputation as a Death Eater scum to unknot. Unlike someone I can name. It took me a while to even begin to trust him; but all he seemed to want in exchange for his company is my friendship, which at present is not much at all._

_I'm slowly going mental though. The dark thoughts that plagued me before have become voices urging me to do bad things; like killing Blaise's neighbor and her five pet crups. Lottie and her crups have not done anything wrong; but the voices are telling me to torture and kill them. She's a Pureblood, isn't that interesting? The voices say that I would enjoy it; and I believe them. It would be enjoyable to kill a pureblood, because she had that in common with you. Shall I start with the sectumsempra curse on her? I remember that one did wonders for you during Sixth Year. After having my fun with her and her dead crups' squishy entrails, I will cast Avada Kedavra. You know; that killing curse that you failed to throw on helpless old Dumbledore on that day on the Astronomy Tower?_

_I gleefully spit on your grave, Draco Malfoy. The one you'll have if I ever get my hands on you again._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Harry_

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_I got my N.E.W.T. results today by owl. It's seriously irritating that even when I know I shouldn't want to (because you're a total arsehole); but you are still the first person who comes to mind whenever I want to share wonderful news, or something I felt happy about, no matter how short-lived._

_Here are my results._

_I got all O's; Outstanding on all the subjects I took for the N.E.W.T. s, except for Advanced Potions and Arithmancy. I got Exceeds Expectations for those; and as grudging as it might be, I should thank you because I would have failed Advanced Potions if it weren't for your tutoring when you were pretending to be a caring friend. Anyway, I'm sure you managed to get even better results than I did. Hermione once told me that if I were not friends with Ron and were more focused on my studies, I might have rivaled you or her for the top spot of the students with best grades. Hardly likely since I never really could bury my nose in books for hours like she did._

_The voices haven't talked to me today; so no, I haven't killed the next door neighbor. Blaise convinced me that I should see a Healer about the voices; and delay my plans to kill the crups because killing crups are just wrong. That was a weird conversation. Apparently Blaise loves crups._

_I think Blaise is right. I'm going to see a Healer. My sanity is definitely off when I couldn't tell whether killing innocent crups were right or wrong anymore._

_Harry_

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_I saw you on the street the other day from the window of my Healer's practice. You looked even paler than you always did. I went running after you before I even knew what I was doing; but you were not there anymore. I missed you._

_The voices were back; and I could barely restrain myself from attacking the Healer when I went back to his office. The voices didn't like it when the Healer discovered and felt them. Have I told you about the time when I was momentarily possessed by Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry; during Fifth Year? Well, the dark voices were worse; because I wasn't sure I want to fight them; the way I was sure I had to fight Voldemort. I don't remember that much more; because I passed out from the pain._

_Blaise was with me when I woke up. He told me that my magic went wild just before I passed out, shattering my wand and some of the windows at the practice. My diagnosis: I was possessed by a slow working dark curse that had been eating me from the inside for nearly a year. I guess the next step would be seeking out Curse breakers, because the Healer said he couldn't help me until the curse was removed._

_I know you don't care; but I'm still pretending to write to you._

_The Draco I thought I knew cared; and keeping this idea of who you were to me and how precious, is the only thread to my sound mind._

_Always,_

_Harry_

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_I've left Britain after I saw an announcement of your engagement to Astoria Greengrass in the Daily Prophet. I couldn't stay here, now more than ever, knowing you were happily engaged and preparing to marry; preparing to live a life without me in it. Damn you, Draco Malfoy. You had no right to play with my feelings and make me fall in love with you. You had no fucking right to turn me into this fucking mess._

_The dark voices are still in my head, and they're getting worse. No I haven't killed anyone. Yet. The voices are one of Voldy's slow acting curses, I'm sure of it now. Blaise thinks so too. We tried everything; a basic Finite Incantatem couldn't end it; needless to say. All the curse breakers we went to could feel the curse emanate from my mind but they couldn't do shite for me either. It figures that delusional madman would still fuck with me from beyond the grave. Ever a thorn in my side, that piece of wretched evil is. The cr__è__me de la cr__è__me of all this is finding out that the curse had some help to come into being after that wretched nose-less evil died. None of the healers had any idea who casted the spell that activated the curse on me. With how it manifested after Voldemort__'__s death; a curse of this magnitude had to have been casted by a living person. _

_I'm travelling to the east to track down Bartholomew Fern, whom I was told; is the best curse-breaker I could possibly find. All the curse breakers I met with said that Mr Fern would be my best wager. My future is bleak at best and any other extrapolation on what might happen to my mind depresses me to no end._

_Congratulations Draco. I still wish it were me instead of Astoria Greengrass. Be happy._

_I don't hate you for not loving me. But I hate myself ; for still loving you._

_Merlin, I'm such a fool._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Harry_

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_I have portkeyed into Japan for 2 weeks now. Blaise accompanied me to look for the famous hermit curse-breaker Bartholomew Fern. That means that we haven't found him yet. Mr. Fern is one hard wizard to track down and he never really stays in one place. Curse Merlin's holey pants, he just HAD to be a hermit who wanders wherever the wind takes him. The healer gave me loads of potions to control the condition of my curse; and prescribed me some very strong dreamless potion so that the curse can't take over me when I'm asleep._

_The voices aren't nearly as bad as they were before that visit to the Healer's; but still, the clock is ticking for me. I'm living on borrowed time and on the sheer hope that the damage dealt to my mind won't be permanent. I don't know if I want to keep on living if I don't come out of this whole; as my belief is still that I should have died along with all those who had fallen during the Battle of Hogwarts._

_Right, onto less depressing news then; I'm trying to keep at least a little positivity in all these morbid thoughts. _

_Here's something interesting; I had to take a crash course in Japanese language and the ways of magical folk in wizarding Japan. All I can say is that things are very different here in the country of the rising sun. Everything's so advanced and efficient. To my delight, I'm finding it easy to master the grammar and pronunciations of the Japanese Kana. Being a parselmouth helps, because the simplified structures of parseltongue grammar is eerily similar to languages of the Orient. Best of all; most of the wizards here don't know who Harry Potter is; and those who do, don't particularly see me as a celebrity. I think I'm going to like it here, in Tokyo._

_I hope you are doing well, Draco, and I hope that I find Mr. Fern in time._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Harry_

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_Two things happened;_

_Firstly, Blaise had a family emergency that called him back to London and had to leave me to search for Mr. Fern for a few weeks._

_Secondly, I went through a fugue; I don't remember what happened, except that I woke up in the store room of a bar near the red light district of Wizarding Tokyo._

_A Japanese wizard who calls himself Uruha found me passed out near the entrance to The Gazette; a Host Bar he owns. He had shoulder length dyed hair; the color of honey and sunlight, and beautiful ultra-feminine features on his face, especially his lips. Uruha reminded me of you, Draco. He had almost the same slender and lean muscle build on his 5' 11'' frame. I have to admit that I found him exceedingly attractive, even though I was supposed to be sick at the time._

_The potions have stopped working; I was gritting my teeth the whole time, trying to ignore the pain in my head and shutting the voices away. I've had some practice with that; though I can't do it for more than a few hours without going into a seizure._

_It was a stroke of luck that Uruha used to study curse-breaking and knew exactly where to find people who could help with exorcism and curse transference magic. Long story short; he's bringing me to a shrine priest/spirit cleanser. Uruha also mentioned that he knew of Mr. Fern. He had the right connections and would be able to contact the hermit; which he agreed to do for me in exchange for some duration of my services._

_The strain from pushing the voices down broke me at that time; forcing Uruha and two of his staff members to hold me down and apparate me with them after my wild magic was subdued by their containment charms. I passed out for Merlin knows how many times that week._

_That was utterly embarrassing. Until next time Draco._

_Harry_

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_Call me desperate but I said yes to Uruha. The duration of my services has been left undetermined since I don__'__t even know how much time I have left that I can be useful to him. _

_Uruha wanted me to work at his Host club as payment for the life debt I owed him for putting me in touch with Bartholomew Fern and the shrine priests who managed to expel the worst parts of the curse from me._

_Anyway, Uruha needed help badly at his Host Club; he needed a bar tender and someone to cover for his hosts. Host Clubs are terribly popular in Japan; and they cater to mostly women who need friendly male companions for a few hours; to talk, have a good time, sometimes to feel a certain degree of affection. A cure for lonely if you will._

_I still have yet to meet with Mr. Fern; and the curse had not gone away completely. The shrine priests, (they really are actually wizards specialized in exorcism of dark magic) said that they couldn't break the spell completely. They have rid me of the voices; but the subtle need for violence and blood thirst I've been feeling remained. Each seizure has been worse than the last; and I have only a few months before a seizure attack becomes fatal; or leave me catatonic. The seizures have taken a toll on me; my hands tremble uncontrollably at times and I find it a bit hard to recall bits and pieces of certain memories. It also seemed that I can't control my magic properly; with or without a wand. _

_I__'__m tired, Draco. Sometimes, I__'__m tempted to just let the curse end me. Fuck responsibility and hope. I think I understand now, why some people would choose death over suffering. _

_Harry_

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_I finally met the elusive Mr Fern. He said the curse was an old magic construct that had been designed to punish a person with too much pride; one that had turned me into a fool who would throw away my pride for almost anything, most of all for a drop of affection. People who were affected by this curse rapidly decline into madness and then death. Shocking? Not to me. Apparently the curse is unbreakable. I was resigned to this; and thought of asking my solicitor to arrange for a merciful wizard__'__s euthanasia when I don__'__t have a handle on my own mind anymore. When I mentioned my readiness to accept death calmly; Mr Fern gave me a thoughtful look. He then suggested a procedure he would like to try on me; a potentially fatal one that he would never have suggested to me if I had any fear of embracing death._

_He proposed a transfer of a curse known as __'__The gift of the Tengu__' __to supervene upon the curse I have. The gift of the Tengu is also a curse designed to punish people with too much pride, except it doesn__'__t quite affect the cursed with madness and death. Hypothetically, the Tengu curse would react to cancel the old magic by destroying all the traces of the previous curse in order to exert its more powerful effects on me, the host of the curse. The process may very well kill me as it takes over. Cringe worthy but I__'__m not surprised._

_Mr Fern cautioned me that by accepting the gift of the Tengu; I could essentially become more Tengu-like in personality and magical make up. The Tengu were creatures from ancient magical race; believed to be the male counter-part of Veelas. From what Mr Fern has shown me from his notes and research, the Tengu were noble warriors with intelligence and thirst for knowledge. There were a number of other potential unknown side effects of accepting the Tengu curse; but I scarcely paid any mind to that. _

_I agreed to Mr Fern__'__s suggestion. I__'__m going to end this letter around here, Draco, as the ritual for me to accept the Tengu will begin shortly. Until next time, Draco; if there is indeed, a next time. It is macabre in taste, but I had arranged my own funeral, right to the last letter in case I kick the bucket here in Japan._

_Yours,_

_Harry_

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_I have accepted the Tengu. Blaise was nearly hysterical when I woke up in an open coffin after a wake. Apparently; and I write this with no small sense of sardonicism, that I actually died shortly after the Tengu curse took hold of me. How am I still alive? I laughed like a proper loon when I woke up, because I didn__'__t expect to still be alive at all. It felt awful and amazing; there wasn__'__t any foreign voice intruding my mind and my magic is finally under control, but at the same time something felt dreadfully denatured. I think it more appropriate to say that I was re-engineered into being; and I could feel hints of the Crow Tengu beneath my skin. Mr. Fern apologized profusely to me; but I found his apologies unnecessary. He told me the risks; and I went into it willingly because I had prayed for death instead of spending the rest of my life inside a spell damage ward._

_It went without saying that I feel different; my magic feels different as if it had been altered. I no longer need my spectacles; and my lightning scar almost faded to nothing. One could only see it if one knew to look for the scar. _

_Unfortunately, my motor functions left much to be desired. Those seizures I had with the previous curse and the temporary death had damaged my nerves to the extent that I have trouble moving my arms and my fingers; I couldn__'__t control the strength of my grip. Walking and taking a piss were two things I dreaded because my whole body feels like it had been shredded by fragments of sharp glass. Thank Merlin for medical potions, or else I may have had to subscribe to years of painful physical therapy instead of a few weeks of agony. _

_Quick quotes quills are a blessing, since I can't write without them at present. _

_Anyway, my first shift at The Gazette starts in a few minutes, so I think I__'__ll stop here._

_I wonder if you__'__re married to the Greengrass girl now, Draco. If you are; I hope that you are at least happy._

_Harry_

* * *

_Dear Draco, _

_The mark of the Tengu curse appeared; it covered one side of my neck; a lot like a tattoo. It reminded me of the dark mark you have on your arm, Draco. Random, but that__'__s how it is. _

_Interestingly, it seemed that news of my death had reached Britain. Blaise popped in one weekend and showed me the article on the Prophet. Apparently someone had hired an investigator to find me; which I can only assume to be Hermione, only to have the investigator arrive at my timely wake; while I was dead. My poor shocked solicitor went straight to me and asked if I wanted to dispel the rumors. I decided not to. Let people think me dead; and I can begin anew as I fade into obscurity. _

_Uruha and the others who work at this fine establishment have taken to calling me 'Karasu'. It means 'Crow'. It is slightly better than them trying to pronounce Harry Potter in their Japanese accent, so I don't particularly mind. I've become the bar tender; after a lot of practice with bar-tending. It helped me stabilize my unfamiliar magic, and helped me get rid of the trembling when I practice routine movements with my hands. _

_To date, I still haven't gotten a proper replacement for my wand. I did brave a Japanese wand maker's store, but found that the Tengu signature in my magic overwhelmed most of the wands and they refused to work for me. The ones that I tried to use promptly splintered at my attempt at simple spell-casting. Further appointments with Mr. Fern alluded to the conclusion that I have no choice but to learn wandless magic. Either that or give up doing magic. _

_At least there's no shortage of things to do around here. I've settled in quite agreeably in Tokyo, working part time at Uruha's host club, and in my free time learning wandless magic, reading up extensively on Mr. Fern's research, especially about the Tengu. It wasn't long until I began feeling clawing pangs of hunger that had nothing to do with need of food as sustenance. It was maddening and I would get sick; other times violent and my magic prone to setting things on fire even with the simplest of spells. This dragged on for days until Mr Fern suggested quite crudely that I go satisfy my baser urges. I was horrified when he mentioned the possibility that the curse would require me to shag people on a daily basis._

_I had suspected for a while that the Tengu curse had a very inconvenient catch; it is a curse after all. Both my suspicions and Mr. Fern__'__s were proven after I had a random flirtation with a rather fit Japanese wizard at the bar I work, which ended up being a one night stand in what the Japanese call a love hotel.__It was after a few weeks of those types of encounters I realized that the Tengu spirit fused inside of me needed a steady diet of sexual intimacy or I would have less and less control over my mental faculties; magic included.__In hindsight I should have expected this because the Tengu lore told of these creatures possessing humans to seduce men and women._

_You either go mad or learn to think differently about the things you can__'__t change. I__'__ve had enough of being a loon for this lifetime. Sometimes I have to remind myself that writing like this to __'__you__' __has to stop, because it is no different than a drunken rant. Still, I found this therapeutic. No one knows of these letters that would never find their way to you. It's like a diary now, more than a few pieces of unsent letters. _

_I wonder what Hermione would say if she knew about these __'__letters__'__. Well, she__'__s not here now. I__'__ve somewhat learned to compensate not having her around to do my research and thinking for me, and oddly enough; I like it. _

_I think this is really goodbye, Draco. As the Japanese say when you don__'__t intend to ever see each other again; sayonara. _

_Harry _


End file.
